Champion of a Dark God
by Tellie571
Summary: When The connection between the wands is too much for them to handle in Harry's 4th year, whats Harry to do when he wakes up in another time and with a Dark God talking to him, kick some ass it is, Warnings: violence. xover with warhammer fantasy.
1. The Changer of Way's

Disclaimer, not mine sadly, everything you see belongs to J.K or Games Workshop.

Summary: This story starts at the fight during the graveyard in Harry's fourth year, and will be massively AU even after Harry returns back to his own time.

** Champion of a Dark God. **

"_We can linger but only for a few moments"__ his father said. "When you break the connection you must get to the portkey, don't look back, just go to the portkey" his mother continued. With a nod Harry turned toward Cedric, I'll take your body with me", Cedric smiled sadly at Harry and thanked him.__"Go NOW, BREAK THE CONNECTION" _, his father yelled, but Harry couldn't't, instead he pushed on, forcing all of Tom Marvolo Riddle's also known as Lord Voldemort's victims out of his wand. Faster and faster Voldemort's wand was forced o spew out every piece of magic it had been used for, until it stopped.

For a split second everything was silent, before a cataclysmic bang went out, and slammed the surrounding Death Eaters away as though they were rag dolls in a hurricane.

After they had recovered from the shock they were treated by the sight of Lord Voldemort lying face down in a scorched circle and the body of Harry Potter was nowhere to be found.

Harry Potter happened to be somewhere else. He was lying on his back in a cold snowing rocky area called Norsca, not so far from the village of Istind, belonging to the Marauding tribes of a people generally know as Chaos by the other inhabitants of the Old World. So with a great sigh Harry Potter woke up again, only to be violently reminded of his less than ideal state.

'_Why do these things always happen to me'?_ was his first question after realizing that A: there were no Death Eaters around and B: there was no dark Lord hell bent on torturing him before giving him a painful death, and C: when the hell was there any snow or mountains for that part on a June day in England? The answer was obvious,_ 'figures that something would happen and transport me through time and space with my luck'_ Harry thought grumpily.

Looking down on his leg Harry winced, _'sprained ankle by the looks of it'_, remembering the spell Professor Lupin had used on Ron in his third year Harry shakily pointed his wand at his ankle "_**Ferula", '**__damn that hurts_'. Now that his leg was at least usable, Harry rose and started walking toward the village he could see further ahead.

As he came closer he could familiarize himself a bit with the architecture. It looked decisively Viking like. Big houses made from timber logs, with thatched roofs and a hole on the middle to let the smoke out. A large palisade wall was encircling the city, and Harry could vaguely see the outlines of harsh pointed runes decorating the gilded wine like carvings on the doors and walls.

At the center of the village on top of a hill stood a grand hall with large stony steps leading up to it, was a great hall, looking even more magnificent than the rest of the village. Shields and heavy swords and axes adorned the wall outside, and at the top of the staircase leading up to it, Harry could see two deep blue banners with a picture laid out in gold.

It was a golden circle, with a small spike formed like a shark tooth bending upward sticking out from the left, and a flame curving upward before bending in toward the circle again from the left, and it was beautiful to Harry. _**"You think so"?**_ whispered a voice in what seemed to be his head.

Harry abruptly turned around, his wand out in a flash. "Who's there"? he called out. "Show yourself", but nothing happened, nothing except a strange melodic laugh ringing through his head. _**"Do not worry young lad, I will not harm you, nay quite the opposite. You are powerful young one, more powerful than any I have seen in ages and trust me that is quite the long time."**_The voice was clearly in his mind, Harry was absolutely sure on that now. It was so strange, like several different pitched voices talking at the same time, beguiling and terrifying at the same time. '_WHO ARE YOU'?_ Harry thought more forcefully this time.

"_**I am the changer of ways lad, the one who knows all, the great manipulator of destiny. You had a destiny, you were the one to destroy that filth Tom Riddle, yet your meddling Headmaster planned to sacrifice you like a martyr 'for the greater good' of course, then he would rally the wizarding world and destroy Riddle while he was still weak, and as such receive another of his beloved Order of Merlin"**_, the voice spat out vehemently. Harry did not want to believe that Dumbledore would do that to him, yet as if by some unknown force, all the bad things that had happened to him through life came back to him, and about all of them lead back to Dumbledore one way or the other. _**"Ah so you see, that is good. So I decided that I should help you my lad, I do not like Dumbledore, and so I decided to stick a giant sword in his wheel so to speak. I shall grant you my mark, this village is to be your home, and with my support you shall unite the tribes under you. You shall be my greatest champion, Your name is no longer Harry Potter, from now you shall be known as Arkhan The Bringer of Change, do the tasks and trials I put before you, and you shall be taken back to your own time with the skills and power to destroy Riddle and mess Dumbledore over for good. I do not demand your soul, only your allegiance lad, it is a fair trade after all, it is you or the world right now, and if you want to survive what do you choose"?**_

The voice seemed particularly pleased with itself. Harry cursed inwardly, at one point he was bubbling with hate and feelings of betrayal against Voldemort and Dumbledore respectively, yet on the other hand, he knew that pledging allegiance to this 'Power' would likely mean killing others, yet now small pieces of information poured into his mind, details on how just about any race and nation in this world, wanted to kill others, for not sharing their faith, or being different, particularly the so called 'Empire' seemed very much like a mixture of the fanatical Soviet Union and the old zealous times where the church was so powerful in the medieval times, hell they even had their own inquisition to root out 'followers of the Dark Gods', and Harry realized with a twist of irony, that was not good or evil a point of view really. _'After all apparently I have a world to save back where I come from, and the only way to save it is by serving a Dark God, would I not be evil by choosing to sacrifice an entire world just so that I can save a few hundred here'? _Harry thought.

Finally he came to a decision. _'I'll serve you so that I can go back and finish of that monster and save my friends and family, even if I'll be damned here for doing so, I will'_, Harry thought.

"_**Good, I Tzeentch the Changer of ways grant you my mark, along with the beginning of your training. The knowledge shall come to you over time. Your first task will be to enter the city, where you shall join into the chieftain's warband, once you have gained enough skill you shall challenge his lowest champion for his title, getting you that much closer to the time you shall wrest the chieftainship from him…go Arkhan, bring forth the change that is demanded by The Changer of Ways**__**".**_

After the abrupt stop of the conversation an excruciating pain raked Harry's chest and head, as the mark of Tzeentch was tattooed over his chest, and information about everything he needed to know about this world was flowing into his brain. Knowledge about the different Lore's of Magic, including the special magic reserved for the followers of Tzeentch only. Every bit of knowledge about the various races, geographical knowledge of the old world, various languages and customs that were used in different nations, all in all knowledge about everything, but the flow of knowledge was so great the he blacked out again.

Malek Darkblood and his three unfortunate comrades in arms swore colourfully when they noticed a bright light and a scream of pain a little to the left. "Helvette, and just now that we were finished with patrol", his comrade Nargeir said.

Malek looked at him, before turning back towards where the light and scream came from. "Let's check it out, after all one can not be too careful around here", he said. As one the four men tightened their grip on their large axes and shields before walking steadily towards the place where Harry was lying on the ground.

"Khorne's teeth", Nargeir swore. " 'Es only a lad and already he carries the mark of the Gods, we must take he back to Varduk at once", he said quickly. And with that, the four Marauders picked Harry up, before moving at a steady pace towards Istind, where he could be brought before their Chieftain Varduk, a mighty Exalted Champion, bearing terrifying Chaos Armour and the Mark of Chaos Undivided, he would definitely be pleased to have someone with the mark of one of the Gods serve under him, after all if one wanted to become the Everchosen of Chaos he would need one from each God serve under him, yes Varduk would definitely be pleased with Malek and his men when they returned.

**AN: I have not stopped my other stories, and so I'm gonna try and update all three of them over the hols.**


	2. Bringer of Change is born

Disclaimer: Sadly neither Harry Potter or Warhammer belongs to me.

**Champion of a Dark God Chapter 2: The Bringer of Change is born.**

Harry swore with words he hadn't even imagined existed before he pledged himself to Tzeentch when he woke up. His head felt like it was being smashed apart from the inside by a Goblin mining crew.

It was only now he realized that he was being dragged by two heavily muscled men with dark beards and large axes at their sides. The leader of the small group was wearing what seemed like sturdy leather armour, while the rest of the men had some thick furs draped over their naked torso's.

"You can let go of me now, I am well enough to walk on my own", Harry or Arkhan as he was now said in perfect norse language, _'complete with dialect' _he added for himself. The men almost dropped him by the shock, before their leader gathered his wits for a reply.

"YOU are going nowhere lad, the only place you are going to is before our chieftain Varduk to be questioned of why you are here. After all it is not everyday that a person bearing the mark of one of the Gods fall into our lap, and never before has a lad as young as you ever received a mark", he barked at Harry.

Harry sighed, but he realized that even with the few things he could remember from the knowledge Tzeentch had given him, that he was no match against four marauders in a fight, and he was currently too exhausted to use magic to deal with them as well, so resigning to his fate Harry chose to study the village and the persons he was dragged past.

It was strange really. The city had the banners of Tzeentch standing outside the great hall, yet from what Harry could see there was only those who followed Chaos in it's pure and undiluted form living here, in other words the leader here was most likely a strong supporter in Chaos undivided, rather than follow a particular goal. '_So why the hell is there no banners or something else depicting the true colours of this village'_, Harry wondered.

His musings however was brought to an end when he was suddenly thrown to the ground before a large throne with a large man in intimidating black Chaos Armour, adorned with lines of silver and gold, a large flowing red cape with a heavy white fur on top was thrown around his shoulders, with a broad shield with the star of Chaos depicted with gold stood against his left side. Beside his right hand a helmet with large spiky horns on was standing innocently, and strapped at his waist Harry could see the handle and cross-guard of what had to be an impressive blade.

His face was drawn back in a scowl, and his dark musky skin was adorned with scars, and Harry could see his left eye missing behind it's empty socket, all in all he was a powerful champion who few dared to challenge.

When Harry was thrown at his feet his scowl deepened. "What is the meaning of this Malek, why are you throwing a little whelp before my feet", he bellowed at the man who had been the leader of the small group who had captured Harry.

"My lord, we found him on our way back towards the village, he carries the mark of Tzeentch, and so w-I presumed you would want to see him", he covered up quickly.

Varduk looked stonily at Malek for a few seconds before his voice came at like a small hiss. "_You dared to presume, you shall not presume anything Malek Darkblood, merely perform your duties like I have commanded you to, and those duties include killing all unwelcome guests, but since you felt so knowledgeable about my wishes it shall be YOU who shall duel him tomorrow, that is how you shall redeem yourself, but if you loose the whelp here shall be allowed to stay, presuming he join me of course"_, he spat the last part towards Harry who had used the moment to regain his footing.

Harry looked unemotionally into Varduk's one eye, an unsettling brown filled with hate met Harry's stone cold emerald green. "It shall be as you command chieftain", Harry nodded at Varduk, "and I thank you for the honour you give me" he finished. Varduk nodded grimly at Harry, "so the whelp has some manners, very well a servant shall lead you to a spare room, after that you shall choose your equipment for the morrow's duel, food shall be given before the day is out", at his wave a middle aged man scampered forward, bowing and scraping worse than a house elf to Harry.

As he was leading Harry away, Harry could not help being incredibly thankful to his new patron, as the knowledge he had given him, made him more sure on himself on how to act and speak, and the ability to protect his mind was also a most welcome gift, especially considering on how dangerous the magic Harry would learn could be, if it was miscast.

Feeling a warmth embracing him Harry relaxed again, apparently his patron was looking over him more than he had originally expected. "Here is your room sir", whimpered the servant who had led Harry, and by taking in the man's accent Harry would guess that the man had once been a Brettonnian, but sometime during his life taken prisoner and kept as a slave.

Harry for his part simply nodded his thanks before entering the room. He would have liked to help the fellow out, but doing so in a nest of some of the fiercest warriors alive was not exactly Harry's idea of gaining their trust, beside Harry's Gryffindor nobility would only go so far before his Slytherin side kicked in and told him to give a flying fuck to his stupid ideas. Grinning to himself at the thought of telling Voldemort to fuck off he looked at his room.

It was simple, a small bed with furs to sleep in, along with a small wooden rack to hang his clothes as well as a chest at the end of the bed to hold any personal items. Shrugging to himself Harry tried to shift through some of the knowledge Tzeentch had given him. One thing was for sure, that even though Tzeentch had used some handy magic to strengthen Harry's body a bit he would still need to work out, so with that in mind Harry started doing basic training exercises he could remember having to perform in school before Hogwarts.

Six hours later Harry was exhausted, actually he was more than exhausted, he had driven himself for seven hours straight, a very hard ordeal for someone not used to heavy exercise, however he knew he would get a good night sleep at least.

Just as he was getting ready for bed a knock came at the door, before a broad-chested Marauder stepped through. "Follow me lad, we're going to the armoury to get your gear". Groaning at the thought of walking Harry followed the man through the torch lit corridors.

After a few moments Harry stood in awe at the room he was in. It was filled to the brim with all kinds of weapons and armour. Jumping into action Harry started to peruse the piles of weapons first.

When taking into the consideration that he could hardly wield a weapon (sure he knew the theory thanks to his dark patron, but he lacked experience), Harry decided that he needed something that could give him an advantage. First he saw a nice sword, of a good three feet long, with a simple cross-guard and a handle that allowed him to wield it with one or both hands. Grabbing it Harry looked over the others there.

The heavy maces, flails and axes were out of the questions, as were the halberds and giant claymores he saw, however one thing caught his eye, a deadly whip of dark leather (Harry would later learn that it was made from the skin of a great Chaos Dragon), with a series of nasty spikes at the four feet at the tip, was hanging coiled on a hanger.

Smirking on the thought of what Hermione would have said if Harry had ever told her that he intended to use a whip on another person, Harry took it off the shelf. Smiling when he felt the soft but firm handle on the end of the whip Harry hung it in his belt.

When it came to armour Harry chose a leather west with chain mail rings fitted into it, along with a scabbard to go with his sword. He deselected to use a shield as well as a helmet, opting instead for a pair of hard iron boots and greaves along with a some sturdy shoulder guards. With his selective gear finished Harry walked back to his room, to familiarize himself a bit with his new weapons.

It seemed that Tzeentch also knew a hell of a lot magic that was used from where and more importantly when Harry came from, and he had seen fit to give Harry as much knowledge as he could, and so it was a grinning Harry Potter who sat on his bed with wand in hand, murmuring spells to imbue his weapons with.

The following morning Harry was rudely awaken by a pair of Marauders noisily banging his door down, telling him to get ready.

Muttering insults at them Harry dressed up in his gear, before he was grabbed by the arms and led out of the village.

It seemed as though every inhabitant of the large village had shown up, and they stood in a circle around what Harry could see as a natural cauldron in the otherwise rocky area. Down in the pit Harry could see his opponent standing ready, a large axe in his hands, along with a sword in his belt and a broad round shield with a central protruding spike on it. As opposed to Harry he was wearing leather greaves and shoes, along with a horned steel helmet, ankle shins, steel shoulder guards and bracers, and a fur cape.

Gulping slightly Harry stepped into the pit, before emptying his minds as best he could of all emotion, instead concentrating on the here and now. It was a few seconds later before the harsh voice of Varduk rang through the crowd.

"Today we have a duel, Malek Darkblood, as price for failing in his duties will have to change a newcomer named Arkhan for his continued place in the tribe, the victor shall be given permission to stay and gets to keep all belongings of the loser, only with the death of your opponent will you be victorious", he yelled, "FIGHT WHENEVER YOU ARE READY", he finished.

Malek smirked, immediately starting his advance towards Harry, believing he was in for a quick victory, he changed his opinion however when a barbed whip that seemed to be engulfed in ethereal blue, green and violet flames missed him by inches, and with a shudder he saw that the head sized rock the whip had hit, seemed to have cracked and was currently falling apart into smaller pieces.

Snarling he ran as fast as he could towards Harry, avoiding the snapping magical whip. With a roar of frustration and pain he threw away his now useless shield which had blocked Harry's latest attempt of killing him.

Harry cursed Malek, how in the nine levels of hell could such a huge man (6 feet tall at least) be so damn fast and agile. With a growl Harry hung the whip back into his belt, inwardly grinning like a Cheshire cat at the damage the whip had done.

All it had taken were a few nasty charms, such as the strengthening charm, which would make the force the whip hit with amplify by ten, the great success however were the magical fire spells that only those with the mark of Tzeentch could use. With a slight modification to it, Harry had managed to bind the power of the Red fire of Tzeentch into the whip itself, which would deal out some serious magical damage should it hit, and with a finishing touch of a colour change to it he had been ready to deal out punishment

With the whip safely in his belt, Harry drew his sword, keeping it in a firm two-handed grip. As Malek swung his axe with unprecedented speed, Harry barely managed to get up a block. The force of the hit however rattled his very bones, and Harry was unable to counter with an offensive retaliation.

Swinging around, Malek brought his axe horizontally, intending to separate Harry's torso from his legs, imagine his surprise when Harry instead of falling in two different directions, was thrown away from Malek.

It was in moments like these that Harry loved magic. The unbreakable charm which would last for a few weeks Harry had put on his leather cuirass had done it's job, however the force of the hit would also leave a hell of a bruise. Narrowly avoiding the next downward chop that would have lobbed his head off, Harry swung at Malek's axe, cutting the head off from the handle.

Malek cursed as his axe was cut in half. Throwing the handle away he drew his sword, jumping backwards from a stab that would have gutted him like a fish. The next strike from Harry was parried and Malek retaliated by sweeping Harry's sword to the side, before he rammed his sword forward with as much force as possible, intending to stab his sword through Harry's heart.

To his great horror the sword splintered with a terrible clang, and he looked dumbly at the sword, which had previously been a hefty four foot five, stood now only at a measly one and a half. He was brought back to reality when Harry's next strike tore the remaining part of the sword from his hand, and he cried out in pain when the reversal strike, drew a deep gash across his right thigh.

Stumbling away towards where the remains of his sword, he failed to notice Harry sheathing his blade, before almost lovingly drawing his infernal whip.

Felling a bit disgusted over his excitement Harry drew the whip back, before snapping it forward, and to his immense pleasure (and small amount of dread) it wrapped itself tightly around Malek's neck.

Malek whose hand had been inches from his broken sword, heard a loud snap, before a horrible stinging sensation came to his neck. With dread he realized that Harry had managed to wrap his whip around his head. Desperately praying to the Gods to spare his life, he started screaming as the fiery energy of the whip started to tear into him. It was pain so terrible, it filled him up, burning his entire body, ripping his nerves and muscles to shreds, before he felt a great yank and all went dark.

Harry had stared in morbid fascination as the energy of the whip started to tear into his opponent, and only after the terrible screams from his opponent did Harry realize what was going on. Judging from the screams the pain was probably equal if not worse than the cruciatus, so to spare him of more torment, Harry yanked back on his whip as hard he could, and completely severed Malek Darkblade's burning head from it's body.

The crowd who had watched in fascination at the duel roared out their approval of the victor, before moving in to congratulate him. After many claps on the back on a lot of handshakes and greetings Varduk stood before Harry, and the crowd silenced immediately.

"That was a good fight lad, you truly are a warrior, tonight you shall spend the night in your new house, doing whatever you wish, and tomorrow there shall be a feast in the hall where you shall be indoctrined and swear your fealty to me. Now if I'm not mistaken there should be some company waiting for you in your new home", at Harry's confused look, he laughed haughtily, "Malek's daughter has yet to reach maturity and is now your possession, your price if you will, you may do as you wish with her", with another laugh and a slap on Harry's back he walked away. Taking the crowd with him.

After a few minutes in silence Harry had accepted what he had done. '_Hell, it was me or him, and after all of these years of being used as a fucking weapon I should be allowed to take my anger out on someone, and I must see if that new girl of mine is any good…after all a bloke should start learning somewhere, and I'd rather do badly in bed with her, instead of someone I genuinely like'_ with a last sigh Harry walked into the village, and after getting some directions he found what was to be his new home '_for now'_ he added.

It was a nice enough place, a living area with an adjourning kitchen, two bedrooms, and a small outhouse to do his 'necessities'. The rooms themselves were not overly furnished, a few trophies hanging here and there, a small collection of axes, a few chairs and a large wooden table, and lastly the girl.

As Harry looked at her, his heart seemed to be stuck in her throat. She was, beautiful, or as Seamus had said on a number of times: DROP DEAD GORGEOUS.

She wore some dark modest clothing that if anything did nothing to hide her delicate curves, especially not her mouth watering chest area. She had quite fair skin that looked almost as smooth as silk, long dark hair that was almost black in delicate curls down to the mid of her back, along with ice blue eyes that seemed to take you in, as well as a killer arse.

Harry gulped, he had to change his plans, he would not force this one into doing anything, he still had morals to live by (mostly), but he would definitely do everything he could to get this girl to like him.

"S-So what's your name", Harry blushed. Dark God or no Dark God watching over him, his shyness with girls would still need to be dealt with manually. Cursing his reaction to girls in general Harry desperately tried to ignore the fact that his bloodstream was sending a large quantity of blood to his nether regions.

The girl looked sadly at Harry for a moment before she looked him in the eye. "It's Serina, daughter of Malek Darkblade", she said automatically, before she realized to severity of her situation, and she broke down in sobs.

Harry cursed the Dursley's and Albus Dumbledore for what seemed like the umpteenth time in his life, their treatment against him was what had brought forth his insecurity with girls, and he had no idea on how to deal with a crying girl. After a quick debate with himself, Harry brushed away all feelings of unease as he grabbed her softly by the chin and forced her to look him in the face.

"For all it is worth, I am sorry for your fathers death, but it was him or me, and so the best man won in the end", Harry told her softly. "I ended it before he felt too much pain at least, and"…here he paused for a second before continuing. "I realize that you belong to me now, however I have no wish to treat you like a slave, nor take advantage over you. You shall be allowed to continue to sue your room and your possessions, you can visit your friends or whatever you like, if you inform me where you are going, and if it is not too much to ask eat dinner with me every day", he finished.

She looked disbelievingly at him for a second, before she threw her arms around him, "thank you thank you thank you", she stuttered as more tears spilled forth, "you have no idea what this means for me".

Thoroughly confused Harry managed to pry the girl of his neck. "It is nothing, we may serve the Dark Gods, but we are still humans in the end, and I do not believe in slavery", he said.

Serina smiled shyly at him before smiling. "Yet most men in our village are no more than common barbarians, I thank you Arkhan, I shall have dinner ready by dusk every day", she curtsied, before she turned around and walked to her room, unconsciously swinging her hips in a manner that once again left Harry with blood flow issues. '_Girls gonna be the death of me some day. Wonder how old she is tough, can't be that much older than me'_, with similar thoughts like that Harry made his way into his new bedroom, and after casting a privacy charm around his bed, he fell asleep, having nothing but pleasant dreams about a dark hared blue eyed beauty, doing things that would have made him blush furiously a few weeks earlier.

**AN: No this will not turn into a romance story. Some romance will be there of course, but i****t will not be everything in it, and it is nice to see that even in the cold and cruel north people can still have feelings. Any questions post them in the reviews and I'll answer them as best I can. Thanks for the support guys, you are amazing. ****Read and Review guys, give me suggestions on things you would like and I'll see if I can't ind a way to incorporate it.**


	3. To Battle

**Disclaimer:** As always harry potter belongs to JK, and warhammer is sadly owned by games workshop. I do not make money out of this and I am writing it mery for my own and my readers satisfaction.**  
**

**Chapter 3.**

As Harry woke up earlier next morning, he marvelled at the softness of the heavy warm furs he was sleeping in. '_Never would have believed that I would be happy to have killed someone off, but this bed is certainly nice'_, Harry thought to himself.

A few more minutes and Harry was up. Looking around he found that the clothing was rather lacking, however with a few botched attempts Harry had managed to transfigure a pair of midnight blue robes, with sparkling stars adorning it. After inspecting the robes he found them good enough to be a mocking impression of Dumbledore's own collection of adverse clothing. As if to further mock both Dumbledore and his lapdog 'Mad Eye' Moody, Harry transfigured his plain glasses to look like Dumbledore's half-moon-glasses, and a few nifty charms later he could now use them to see through walls and other material substances within fifty feet of him.

With an amused laugh at the picture Dumbledore would have on his face if he had witnesses Harry pledging service to a murdering sycophant Harry strolled up towards the Great Hall, with his trusty whip at his right and the sword at his left.

The Great Hall was empty sake for Varduk, one of his Sorcerers, another champion bedecked in a dark set of Chaos Armour with rust stains on, and his bodyguard consisting of twenty Chaos warriors holding big battleaxes and wearing heavy black Chaos Armour.

Without as much as a glance on the others in the room Harry straightened up and locked gazes with Varduk before he marched towards him. A few feet before his dark throne Harry dropped to a knee and bowed his head in an act of submission.

"Arkhan, with your defeat of Malek Darkblood you have gained prestige and honour worthy enough of joining my clan, is that your desire to serve me? To take me as your liege and as such stand to gain many riches should you survive, state thy wish and I shall grant it", Varduk said.

Harry raised his head and looked up at the gnarled face of Varduk. In truth he had one Master and one Master only, Tzeentch the Changer of Ways, however Varduk did not know this and as such Harry was not afraid of giving him a false oath of allegiance, especially since he considered himself more as an Ally to Varduk rather than a servant, beside Varduk would stand to gain from Harry's presence on the battlefield.

After his initiation there was a grand feast to celebrate a raid that was to take place the day after, and so it was that Harry was currently sitting at the largest table telling stories about his earlier life with a few twists of course.

"And then, as that thrice accursed snake was going to swallow me whole some stupid hat decided to give me a sword to kill it", Harry told an enraptured crowd, as he was recounting his adventure into the chamber of secrets. "Believe it or not but that sword was a nasty piece of work, sharp as the axe of Khorne himself, I used it to kill the damn snake by driving it through his head, and later I survived the deadly venom it had, I realized then that I was favoured by the Gods, and so I left to wander the world until they gave me a sign", he finished.

"Ar, tis is a great tale lad, but anyone man can come up with a good story, ye have to prove yerself tae us before yer welcomed into the fold", a lumbering brute of a man wearing an eye patch over his right eye, said to Harry.

Harry looked at him for a few seconds, taking him in, before smirking. "I'll bet my share of swag well get on the morrows raid that I shall send more souls to meet the Gods than you will" he said before draining his goblet of ale.

The Marauder looked shrewdly at Harry for a moment before bursting out in warm laughter. "Aye tis appears that we have a dreamer amongst us lads", he laughed to the appreciation of the crowds, "very well lad, if ye can kill more of the monger scum we're going after than I can, I'll give ye the part of me swag tomorrow, and a secret as well", he finished.

"I'll hold you to the bet", Harry said, "however time seems to run away from us and so I shall retire back to my house. As Harry was walking back towards the house he could feel the gaze of the sorcerer whom was named Radhakss on him, and even out in the street Harry could feel him following him.

As he entered the house he locked the door before silencing the house to make sure that it was not possible to eavesdrop or break in. With a jolt in his stomach Harry saw that Serina had already set the table and prepared a meal consisting of warm bread and soup.

With a smile at her he sat down and started eating, savouring the taste as he looked at Serina. "You look tense my Lord, is something bothering you"? she asked with a hint of nervousness in her voice, as if she feared that Harry would hurt her.

Instead of answering straight away Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "It is the sorcerer of Varduk, this Radhakss, that worries me", Harry said silently. "He does not like me, and most likely is already planning my death, and as such I need to find a believable way to kill him without casting the blame on me, as I'd rather not meet my end at Varduk's blade for treason", Harry mused as he looked at her, taking in all details of her figure, the way that dress accented her cle- _'woa down boy'_, Harry mentally berated himself.

As if she realized what he was staring at Serina blushed, and averted her eyes. "Could you not kill him during the morrow, after all so many things happen on a battlefield, and his death would not be investigated", she said.

For a whole ten seconds Harry stared at her, before he snorted, "it would definitely not be investigated, especially not if I hit him with a killing curse, for all purposes it would seem that he killed himself by a miscast, I thank you for the idea Serina, and for the meal as well it tasted wonderful". With a smile of thanks Harry walked to his bedroom to get some sleep so that he would be ready for the next day.

Early the next day Harry was once again dressed up in the equipment he had worn during the duel, but this time he had a thick fur cape drawn about his shoulders as well. As he looked around at the army that had gathered he could once again feel the burning gaze directed at him by the sorcerer. With a mental shrug he walked over the large Marauder he had made a bet with the previous night.

"Ah I hope yer ready lad, tis going to be a hard trip", he said. Harry however merely raised an eyebrow, as if he was unable to go on a long walk, it was preposterous in his opinion. "Just don't wear yourself out before we go into battle, or it won't even be near a competition", Harry told him with a grin.

Roughly half an hour later the army consisting of about a hundred Marauders , a few dozen Chaos warriors, and Varduk's own bodyguards and champions moved out. An hour's walk later and they stood in front of a dozen longships crafted similarly to the ships the Vikings used to use.

A few hours later and they were out on open sea, rowing towards the distant land of Brettonnia. The seven days they spent at sea was very uneventful if you discounted the fact that one of the ships lost half of it's original crew due to a brawl. Originally only five men died in the fight, but Varduk's personal champion, and bearer of the army Battle Standard, saw fit to execute twelve more to set an example, two others for being stupid enough to question his authority, and another four just because they 'rubbed me the wrong way', as he put it.

The army arrived at the banks of Brettonnia, not too far from a small city at the break of dawn, with quick efficiency they army split into small regiments and started to march towards the city. An thirty minute march away the town sentries rang the warning bells to signal an incoming attack, and Harry felt his blood boil in anticipation, this would be the first time he ever participated in a battle. As they closed in on the city they could see the enemy forming up outside it.

If Harry was to take a wild guess they were facing roughly three hundred men-at-arms, backed up by a hundred archers. Leading the army was an elderly knight with the marks of a questing knight, and by his side was another knight carrying the battle standard. They were surrounded by twenty other knights of the realm, while at the flank of the army Harry could spot a small group, fifteen or so filled with surprisingly young and arrogant knights, probably errant knights who had yet to receive their spurs.

"Alright lads, if we just break the knights their resolve will crumble and they'll panic and flee", Harry yelled at the group of Marauders he was in. As they closed in on the Brettonnian army war cry's from the Chaos army seemed to roll over the Brettonnian peasants like thunder, and the savage grins and grimaces from the Marauders and Chaos warriors had a few of them already debating to run, the knights however rallied them, and ordered a volley of arrows towards the approaching army.

Of the one hundred arrows that sailed towards the Chaos army, less than a dozen actually reached it, the rest had fallen short, and only one, an unlucky Marauder died from an arrow that went through his eye. With a roar the army rushed forwards, to charge the Brettonnians.

Harry was running alongside the rest of the regiments, when the young errant knights appeared in front of them, galloping towards them in a furious pace, without blinking Harry drew the whip and swung it, deftly unhorsing a young knight as the whip tore through the muscles behind the knees of the horse.

At this point the young knights smashed into Harry's regiment, and Harry felt his breath get blown out as a lance was shattered against his breastplate. Harry managed to rise up again, and drew his sword, with a cry of anger he drove it into the back of an unsuspecting knight, skewering his heart as he did so. With little effort he dragged it out of the dead knight, just in time to parry the strike of his comrade, with a grunt Harry swiped the sword away, and lashed out with the whip in his right hand, tearing his enemy's throat out.

Harry spun around, and snapped the whip towards a cluster of three knights, and as if by some stroke of luck, it wrapped itself around the enemy's swords. With a feral smile Harry dragged the swords out of their hands, and watched in grim satisfaction as they were dragged from their horses and killed.

Seeing as there were no enemies around Harry, he started to look around for the sorcerer that he was going to kill, and he spotted him as he was preparing a spell, and he had a clear shot as well. With a feral smile on his face Harry took out his wand aimed it and muttered two words. '_Avada Kedavra'_, out of his wand a green light flew towards the sorcerer with a rushing sound.

The sorcerer turned towards the green light of death coming towards him, and his eyes widened in terror as he lost control of his spell the moment the fatal curse hit him. Harry on the other hand watched in fascination as the combined energies of the killing curse and whatever spell the sorcerer had been attempting clashed together. With a disgusting sound of tearing flesh, the sorcerer exploded outwards, as a multitude of green beams was scattered about the place striking down Chaos warriors and Brettonnian knights alike.

With a roaring cry Harry and a dozen other bloodstained marauders crashed into the Brettonnian men-at-arms. His arms were moving on their own accord, his sword disembowelling and gutting his foes in droves, while his whip arched, snapped and swished about the place, tearing off heads and limbs while setting their corpses into flames.

After a few more kills, Harry was close to the remaining knights, who had formed up in a circle cluttered around the banner desperately trying to penetrate the heavy Chaos Armour that their foes were using.

Once again Harry put his whip in his belt before drawing his wand, and he aimed it at the closest knight. **"Ossus Fractum"**, the deadly spell would force the bones in his body to implode on themselves, causing major internal bleeding and organ damage, the knight that was hit barely recognised that something was flying towards him before his skull collapsed, crushing his brain into goo.

The spell was followed by an entrail expelling curse and five overpowered cutting curses that sent four more knights to an early grave. With a grim smile Harry leaped up onto the closest horse, before he started moving towards the leader of the army, dispatching another knight with a stray killing curse.

Suddenly the Brettonnian leader was before him, sword raised in a challenge which Harry gladly accepted. They circled each other for a minute, trying to find a weakness to exploit. Harry knew that it would be a tough fight, especially on horseback where his enemy had the advantage so he needed to unhorse him.

A killing curse launched at his horse took care of the problem, and Harry leaped down from his own stolen horse to be ready for the fight to come. Wiping sweat from his forehead Harry raised his sword to be ready, that last curse had taken a lot out of him, and he was now breathing heavily from magical exhaustion.

With a cry the Brettonni Paladin threw himself at Harry, swinging his sword in to decapitate him, instead of using precious strength to block it Harry sidestepped and swept the sword away from him, essentially making it glide further along its path, and with a quick reversal strike Harry made a thin line of blood along his enemy's arm, the honour of first blood belonged to Harry.

With a snarl of anger his enemy swung around again, and as before Harry swept it aside drawing a thin line of blood on the reverse stroke. After that Harry turned on the offensive, his sword stabbed and slashed, chopped and swung, trying to penetrate the defences of his enemy. Ten minutes later both Harry and his opponent stood facing each other, breathing heavily from exhaustion, and bleeding from a score of small wounds.

As if by some predestined signal both attacked again, while his enemy thrust forward hoping to gut him, Harry sidestepped to the left, while bringing the sword down from an overhead chop that smashed his opponents sword from his grasp. Quick as lightning Harry ripped his opponents helm off, eager to see his face.

The man was nothing special, a middle aged man with a big moustache and a small beard accompanied by unfocused hazel eyes. With slow deliberation Harry picked up his opponents sword, a nice sword that would probably have fitted one of the rich lords that took part in the crusades in Harry's own world. The blade was a good three and a half feet long, with a crossguard formed much like a templar cross in black and a pummel that was studded with a small sapphire Harry decided that he had a new weapon. Hefting his new sword in his right while holding his other sword in his left Harry crossed them before his opponents throat, before cutting his head off.

For a whole three seconds silence reigned over the battlefield before the Chaos army roared out cries of victory, but Harry was cursing like a pissed off sailor. The Brettonnian knights had deemed it important to kill him now that he had killed their leader, so now they were all riding towards him.

Swearing again Harry threw the sword in his left hand towards the knights, skewering one through the throat. The Chaos warriors led by Varduk charged forward, intending to gain honour by killing more of the knights. With a flourish Harry had his wand out again, staying away from killing curses Harry decided to send a nice cutting curse that had been assigned by the greasy git himself actually. Only three knights was left now, and the rest of the Brettonnian army was fleeing or cut down while they were fleeing. With a cry of victory Harry smashed the Brettonnian Battle Standard Bearer to the ground, before driving his sword through his chest.

Seeing as the battle was won, Harry opened the bag he had charmed, it was enlarged from the inside, giving it enough room to hold and overly large car. The first thing Harry decided to pick up was the battle standard that he had captured, and then he followed the rest Into the city. Instead of raiding houses and the like Harry headed straight to the castle, filling up his bag with all manner of expensive silverware, bottles of fine wine, a number of tapestries. A fine throne made out of oak with strange carvings on, most likely an old relic from when the Elves still ruled the lands. He took all the gold he could find, which was about four large chests of it. In the bedroom he took a number of fine clothing.

Seeing nothing more that interested him, Harry put the place to the torch, before he ventured outside, to see if there was something left. Apparently there was nothing left, except the stables where Harry found a very big and strong warhorse completely black. After a small struggle of wills Harry won, and he led it out by the reins.

The rest of the city was already burning, and A small number of slaves had been herded into a circle where they were begging for their lives. With a shake of his head Harry followed the Chaos forces that were already moving towards the ships, receiving a nod of appreciation from Varduk.

As they moved onto the ships, the large Marauder that Harry had a bet with came up to him. "It appears that I was wrong abou' ye lad. Me name's Leif, and I'll give ye me swag when we get back, and I'll drop by yer house tae tell ye abou' the secret I mentioned", with a smile Harry grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. "Arkhan at your service Leif, I shall be expecting you".

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**AN:** Okay so that's the next part of the story. Please everyone who read this fic, vote in my poll at the top of my bio, I'll keep the poll open till the end of February. Thanks for the rewievs guys, I appreciate them.**  
**


	4. Rise of the Everchosen

**Dislcaimer:** This is not mine. Everything from warhammer is the property of Gamesworkshop, and Harry Potter sadly belongs to JK.

Warning: This chapter will include a small lemon (don't worry there is a warning where it appears). I know that it is far from super quality, but then again I've never actually written smut before, so please no flames, but tell me what you like and don't like, and what I can improve (on both the Lemon and the story in general), other than that I won't bother you more grin

**Chapter4: Rise of the Everchosen.**

The boat trip back was less eventful than the previous one. Seeing as everyone mostly was happy about what they had managed to grab there were no fights, and therefore no need to execute anyone to make examples, and it was barely a week later that they were once again back at Istind, where a huge party was thrown to celebrate the success of the raid.

And as Harry was sitting beside Leif, listening with amusement as Leif embellished Harry's part in the battle like a professional story teller he had to admit that the battle had gone well. Of the roughly hundred men that had sat out only seven had died with a few serious wounds caused to some of Varduk's bodyguards as well. Apparently they had taken over fifty slaves, and they had enough food and drink to last for weeks.

"C'mon Arkhan, why don't ye tell us yer tale abou' that large snake ye faced again", Leif yelled as he slapped a large hand at Harry's shoulder. Smiling with amusement at how much these people reminded him of Vikings Harry drained his goblet of mead before once again launching into a (heavily) embellished tale of how he slew a sixty foot basilisk.

It was many hours later that found Harry and Leif in Leif's house. "Alrigh' I promised ye that I would give ye a secret, a secret that was told tae me by me father actually", he told Harry drunkenly as he poured both of them some more mead.

"Bout' a six days ride north from 'ere' yeh should find a cave, don't worry it should'nae be too difficult to find considering that the cave entrance is in a large rock standing for itself in a large flat area. In tis cave I've heard there be 'n ancient suit of Chaos Armour that would be heavily enchanted, and only a person like yerself would be able to enter the cave, seeing as one would have tae carry the mark of one of the Gods tae enter it", he took a great sip as he looked closely on Harry.

"I dinnae what be guarding the cave, but I can tell ye that it will difficult to get the armour, but it should be worth it all things considered".

Pondering a bit for himself Harry conceded that it did sound like it was worth it, and even though he was still not too proficient with magic without his wand there were few things that could survive a killing curse, and he had the magical energy to send of a few of them before he would start to feel the strain. "I thank you Leif, this sound to be truly a venture worthy my person", Harry said with a grin as he swallowed some more mead.

With a little help from Leif Harry took his part of the things Leif had managed to plunder from the Bretonnian village they had sacked over this his house before biding him goodbye. With a last sigh he stepped into his own house, only to be engulfed in a tight hug from Serena.

"Thank the Gods", she mumbled. "I did not know if you survived as you did not return after the feast". Harry simply patted her back gently as she dried her tears. "It would take more than a few upstart peasants to kill me Serina", he said with a laugh.

Stepping back she looked him over with a critical eye. "Follow me", she said as she dragged him into the bathroom which had a large wooden pit in the middle of the floor that was filled with warm water.

"You are dirty", she said simply at Harry's confused look, and before he could say more she had started to remove his armour.

**:Lemon Warning:**

The first to go was the fur cape he was wearing, quickly followed by the leather cuirass he was wearing, and Harry watched with concern that the unbreakable charm had already starting to wear off with the hits it had taken. Next came the shoulder guards and bracers, before she went to her knees to remove his boots and greaves, before she stood up again.

Slowly almost sensually she started to button up his shirt one button by the other, taking what appeared to be great pleasure in stroking her hands over his muscular chest. Harry on the other hand was blushing slightly, though it was difficult to see with the amount of caked blood and gore that had splattered across his face.

After his shirt came off Serina took up a wet piece of cloth that she used to clean his face with, before she kissed him. It was incredible. Soft and intense at the same time, and she allowed her tongue to lightly caress his lips before she pulled back, as she gave him a slightly insecure smile.

Growling with lust Harry pushed her back as he locked lips with her again. Where the last kiss had been a sensual insecure one, this was filled with passion lust and desire, and he could hear her moan with desire as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. One of her legs draped around his waist and her hands had either fisted itself in his hair or was raking over his chest.

With a growl of lust Harry bushed into a wall as his hands roamed through her hair and over her dark dress. Breaking the kiss Serina started to lightly hiss his face and neck and Harry went weak in he legs a moment as she gently sucked on a sensual point at the side of his throat. His left that had been brushing over her belly gently slipped beneath her skirt and went up to caress the side of her breasts, and he smiled smugly as she moaned with desire.

Stopping his ministrations for a slight moment Harry slipped her shirt over her head before claiming her lips with his again, and he moaned softly into her mouth when her hand slipped into his pants where she started to stroke his hard manhood slowly.

He rubbed her left nipple with his right hand as his left clenched her firm derrière. Quickly they both divested themselves of their remaining clothes, and stumbled into the warm water. They had barely gotten into the water before they were locked in another heated kiss, and Harry couldn't believe that anything could be so good.

He was proven wrong when Serina guided his throbbing manhood towards her aching femininity and impaled herself at him. Harry thought he'd died and gone to heaven at the feeling of her warm incredibly tight vagina squeezing his hard manhood like it was a lifeline, while Serina bit down on Harry's neck hard in both pain from her hymen breaking and pleasure at being filled up.

Both of them moaned in pleasure as they stared to move against each other, and Harry could already feel that his release was not far away with the way she kept impaling herself at his manhood.

Sure enough barely a few minutes later Harry cried out in pleasure as he shot his seed deep into her waiting womb and sent her into her own blissful climax. Breathing heavily Harry looked into her glazed beautiful blue eyes. "That was… that was great", he panted as he kissed her softly, inwardly cheering when she brought her arms up to encircle his neck. "yes it was", she said as she broke the kiss. "But we should probably get cleaned up before we continue", she said with a smirk.

Grinning at he his once again hardened piece of man flesh out from her, giving her a heated kiss as well before he reached for the soap.

**:End Lemon:**

After they had both washed up and retreated to Harry's bedroom the started on what was to become the best night in Harry's life to that point, and Harry praised the Gods on more than one point that teenagers were so full of sexual stamina, and both of them fell asleep from exhaustion with smiles on their faces.

It was only after he woke up the next day that Harry remembered what he was planning on setting out on, and he was lost in his own thoughts as he slowly stroked Serina's dark hair. "What is it", she said suddenly as she turned to face him, her blue eyes staring at him, apparently she had been more awake than he thought.

"I must leave again", he said sadly as he allowed his hand to caress her naked thighs in slow circles. "There is a cave up north with an ancient artefact that I must hunt down, why I do not know, but I have a feeling that I shall need it".

Serina sighed, as she closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. "When must you leave?" she whispered from where her face was buried in Harry's chest. Harry kissed the top of her head as he held her closer. "I must leave today, since winter will be coming soon, I will need at least twelve day's of travel and I do not know how long a time I will spend in the caves, though if I am lucky I will be able to return before the storms set in".

Instead of speaking Serina simply accepted that the man she had come to love had to leave her again, it was something that all women had to endure here in the north and so she would have to as well. "Come back to me", was all she said, before she straddled his waist and started to kiss him.

Three hours later saw Harry sitting on the black warhorse he had acquired dressed up in his armour and his thick fur coat slung about his shoulders. Varduk had seemingly cared less about Harry going out on his venture, simply ordering him to come back alive, and many people from the village had gathered to see his him off to his travel.

"May the Gods bless your journey Arkhan", he could hear Leif shout across the others who stood around him. With a nod at the people around him and a gentle smile at a tear streaked Serina he pushed his heels into the flanks of his new horse and shot out of the gates in a fast gallop.

Both him and his horse had apparently come to an understanding. Harry knew his horse was a mighty and proud steed, worthy of kings, and the horse knew Harry to be a warrior worthy enough to ride him as well as take care of him, and this understanding was what would lead to a great companionship between the two of them.

The first two days had been uneventful in every way of the word, not a single animal or worse was seen as they raced over the rocky roads leading north. At the third day they endured a chilling rainstorm, that promised the arrival of the winter soon, and even with magic Harry had barely been able to come up with a fire that was good enough to keep them slightly warm.

The fifth day continued with heavy wind, but no rain fortunately, and it was here, at where the road forked, one way leading to the east, one to the west, one to the north east and one to the north that proved to be Harry's first problem. As instructed Harry took the road that went due north, however he had barely gotten ten yards on the way before it was blocked by a large Chaos Warrior further up ahead, at least he believed it to be a Chaos Warrior

"Who dares to enter the domain of the Swords of Chaos?" came the deep hate filled voice of the warrior in front of him. "It is I Arkhan the Bringer of Change, Champion of Tzeentch, I seek the artefact that is resting in your domain", Harry answered back with as steady a voice as he could.

He had revealed his intentions of retrieving the artefact that they were guarding no matter what, and that he would challenge them if he had to. "Then we will fight", stated the other warrior as he drew his sword out of his scabbard and hefted his large shield, before walking slowly towards Harry.

Harry on the other hand was cursing in his own mind. Of all the things to guard whatever was here it had to be the Swords of Chaos, the old warband of Archaon the previous Everchosen of Chaos, and possibly the most dangerous bad guy on the planet, at least whatever he ahd arrived for was sure to be worth it, now he only had to fight the best warriors that the followers of Chaos could throw at him, it was a knight against the boy with a stick case scenario, and suddenly Harry grinned.

While Harry was certainly the boy with a stick, his stick had the potential of causing damage… lethal damage, so with a flick of his wrist he had his wand in hand and before you could say quidditch he had fired a killing curse towards the Chaos Warrior who took it in the stride.

Harry's smug grin promptly disappeared when the warrior was blasted to the ground only to stand up again. "Did you not know young Champion, the armour of the Gods give us sufficient protection against spells?" the warrior mocked.

"Well fuck", Harry grumbled as he dismounted and drew his sword. The Chaos warrior swung his sword with incredible swiftness and Harry was forced to jump backwards from a strike that would probably had broken his ribs. Barely given time to breathe his opponent started to swing again, forcing Harry on the defensive straight away. For almost ten minutes his enemy had forced him to dodge, jump, block or redirect the strikes that was unleashed upon him, and he was getting tired, so tired that he made a mistake and watched as his sword went flying away, the following strike to his sternum sent him to the ground, where he tried to regain his breath.

His enemy believed Harry to be dead, after all no one could receive such a blow and survive, other than his Lord Archaon perhaps, but then again Archaon was the Everchosen not some foolish young Champion intent on bringing himself some glory. With a snorth of displeasure at the young fool who could not even fight he went to retrieve the boy's sword, it was fairly unique and would do well in his collection however just before he was about to pick it up a cold voice from behind him made him stand still, '_**we're not finished'**_, the young fool whom he believed he had just killed stated, and Grimnar gulped slightly when he saw the infernal no doubt magical whip in the hand of the young boy.

Quenching his fear he leapt towards the boy intent on removing the young upstarts head from his shoulders as quickly as possible, that however proved to be slightly difficult when the boy started to swing the whip around in some strange pattern, before giving it a final snap towards the sky, and Grimnar dropped his sword out of pure shock when he saw what had happened.

The whip which had been ablaze with strange flames, went strangely normal when the boy had snapped it in the air. While out from the tip of it, the flames twisted and formed into a creature of horror. The brightly burning magical flames took the shape of a massive two headed Chaos Dragon, each head snapping and blowing small bursts of fire, while small flames littered it's already burning body, with an unnatural shriek that chilled him to his very bones the dragon flew to him and engulfed him with deadly flames, Grimnar barely managed to give a single sound of pain before his body was reduced to ash, leaving nothing but an empty suit of white hot Chaos Armour behind, with a nod of satisfaction Harry snapped the whip at the dragon forcing the deadly flames to once again sink into his whip dancing over it now and then while giving a slight shimmer of enchantment.

Grinning smugly Harry mounted his horse again. While the previous enchantments had been good and all that Harry had managed (with some heavy advice from his unholy Patron) to imbue it with the deadly powers of Fiendfyre. Normally the incredibly potent, incredibly dangerous and incredibly dark spell was simply inside his whip, he could summon it forth and blast it out from his whip to set it loos on his enemies, and he did not need to fear loss of control either as a simple snap of his whip against it would once again force it inside, the only sad thing was that his poor sword had not survived the onslaught of magical superfire, and had been reduced to a gleaming pool of molten metal.

Giving the still gleaming piece of white hot Chaos Armour a last glance he rode forth towards where he knew the cave should be. At the end of the sixth day Harry had reached the entrance to the cave, and just like Leif said it was at a large rock surrounded by a large circle of open land, not a common place in the mountainous lands or Norsca. Leaping down from the saddle Harry inspected the large door that was the entrance to the cave.

The door itself was nothing special, just a piece of smooth polished stone, but when he neared it the eight pointed star of Chaos emerged from the middle of it in blood red colours, knowing that he carried the mark of his God Harry simply walked on, and went straight through the door as though it was not there at all, _' that would be handy to have'_.

The inside of the cave was just as unimpressive as the outside was. A simple corridor sneaking downwards with torches lining the rocky walls, but Harry knew that appearances could be deceiving so he walked on carefully, his whip already in his hand, ready to be used in a moments notice. But the cave was empty, and he walked for what felt like hours downwards, until he came to a great circular room with an alter at the top of a raised dais.

Completely forgetting his earlier concentration and readiness Harry almost ran up to the altar that held the armour he was looking for, and when he reached it he almost fainted. He was currently standing less than three feet away from the Armour of Morkar, the first ever suit of Chaos Armour, granted to the first Everchosen of Chaos, and had been used by every subsequent Everchosen since that, and from what Harry knew it should be in the hands of Archaon the current Everchosen who was forced to flee from Middenheim after failing to bring about the end of the world by the Storm of Chaos, "how?" he whispered to himself.

"Lord Archaon was punished by the Gods for his failure", spoke a Chaos Warrior who had stepped out from one of the hidden doors in the room, slightly to Harry's left. "They cursed him by removing his immortality from aging", came the voice of another, this time from the right. He was cursed by a foul Vampire, whom made him age quickly, we killed the Vampire but it was already too late, Lord Acrhaon was dying from his now very old age, his last commands was to place the remaining five artefacts of Chaos around the world and guard them with our lives, that was twenty years ago, and so here we stand, there has been some time since we were last challenged, but if can defeat three of our champions then you shall don the armour and we shall follow you", said a new one who had appeared in front of Harry.

Harry looked around the room, twenty knights stood there, all of them former members of the Swords of Chaos, and mighty champions in their own rights, most likely all of them had once been Kings or Chieftains of their tribe or tribes.

One of them stood forward, drawing up a very large two handed double-bladed axe, "I shall have the first fight", he said as he stepped towards Harry. Harry quickly uncoiled his whip, and snapped it towards his challenger, who leaped nimbly out of the way with a grace that should be impossible for one wearing such a large bulky armour. Undeterred Harry continued to swing and snap his whip around, dodging the dangerous strikes from his opponent, however as luck would have it his opponent was simply to skilled, and he managed to deliver a devastating blow towards his midriff that threw him back several feet.

With a snarl of pain and annoyance Harry swiped the whip along the ground, and watched with glee as it coiled around the left knee of his opponent. With a cry of frustration Harry ripped the whip towards him as hard as he could, and watched in satisfaction as the leg of his enemy was torn off slightly above the knee, causing him to fall to the ground in pain.

Swiftly bringing the whip over to him, Harry managed to remove the leg from the many barbed spikes that had buried themselves in it, and to his immense relief his enemy had yet to stand up fully, though he was trying. Quickly and remorselessly Harry snapped his whip at his enemy revelling in the screams that tore out from his mouth as his back was flayed with magical energies and short spikes. Again and again Harry allowed the whip to be snaps down on his opponent, until a particularly nasty strike removed the head from it's torso.

"I will have him now", said another one as he stepped out fearlessly, holding a large sharp sword in each hand. Reverting to his earlier tactic Harry set about swinging and snapping his whip, trying to get in a blow at his enemy, only to watch in fascination and horror as his enemy coiled his whip around his own sword, and started to drag Harry over to him. Harry cursed as he was dragged forwards, not strong enough to stop him, and he knew when he reached his enemy it would be over. As he was dragged forwards Harry saw the upper half of the battle axe his former enemy had used, and with some effort he managed to get a grip of it and hide it behind him.

Steeling himself Harry knew that he would only get one chance with this, he gripped the axe harder. With a nice roll he barely missed the oncoming sword. Quick as lightning Harry jumped up and slammed the great axe upwards, straight between the legs of his opponent whom immediately collapsed to the floor, howling in pain over his now ruined… 'equipment'. Harry smirked as everybody in the room tried to hide their slight wince at their comrade's plight. Hefting the big axe in both hands, Harry lobbed his enemy over onto his bag, and placed his right leg on his chest, ignoring the pained gasps coming from his downed enemy Harry raised the axe over his head and slammed it downwards, cleaving his enemy's head and helmet, instantly killing him, "next", said Harry as he stepped away from the now cooling body.

Somewhere to his right another one stepped forward, carrying a large black shield with the Chaos star on it, and in his right he held a big hammer, well big to be held in one hand anyway. Seizing the initiative Harry ran towards his enemy, before he swung the axe in a deadly arc, smashing it downwards at a left angle, intent on eviscerating his enemy, sadly his enemy seemed to have predicted this move some time ago as he swung forwards with his hammer. The hammer met the axe with tremendous strength, and the axe shattered into several pieces, leaving Harry standing there with a short wooden handle.

The following strike from the hammer flung him backwards, and Harry could already feel his armour begin to crumble, along with the charms he had placed on it. '_the damn hammer must be made by Dwarves with runes of destruction and annulling, fuck this is not good_', Harry thought furiously as he avoided another strike that would have reduced his head to red goo.

Rolling backwards, he ignored the incredible pains his body was feeling and drew his wand. Even though the Chaos Armour could stand up against a shitload of magic, he was quite sure that it would not stand up against an overpowered killing curse. So he gathered all of his desire to kill, his will to survive, and his hope of winning, along with as much magic he could and forced it into his wand. **'AVADA KEDAVRA'**, he yelled, as he forced whatever magic he had left.

The green beam of death exploded from his wand, and rushed towards his victim with the speed of an express train. With a terrible bang it collided with his enemy's armour and tore straight through whatever magical resistance it had, and engulfed him, before slamming him away several feet, just like Voldemort had done against Cedric.

Harry almost fell to the ground as the magical exhaustion hit him, and he looked with slight awe at his wand, which had channelled so much power into one spell, only to be slightly dismayed when he looked at it. His once immaculate Holly wand, was singed and cracked at the front, and it gave out a few pathetic puffs and coughs of pink smoke, before it simply died out with a sound one would expect from am muggle computer or something similar, apparently the power of the spell had been too much and he had burned out the core, leaving the wand as nothing other than a hollow piece of wood, shrugging he put it back into his belt, before looking at the other warriors in the room whom had gone deathly silent.

"Mylord", said one of them as he fell to his knees with his head bowed. "We have sent for your Herald, he shall dress you in your new armour my Lord, we are yours to command", and as one all of the warriors fell to their knees before removing their helmets and bowing their heads. But before Harry could speak a figure could be seen walking down the corridor from where he had come from, and Harry only managed to restrain his gasp when the figure stepped out into the light of the torches around the room.

Standing at an impressive 7.5 which was tall for even a Chaos Warrior stood a person that was part of many a legend these days. Clad in an old suit of black and copper Chaos Armour. A great spike stood out from each of the kneepads, and he wore a necklace filled with fangs from a mighty Chaos Dragon he had slain. His helmet was adorned with two horns with metal tips. In his left hand he held a long simple broadsword, while his right was grasping a slightly rust stained single headed axe, along with a great shield, which was once again adorned with a copper Chaos star and had a central spike in the middle, with a chain holding three skulls draped around the top of it.

"I am Vardek Crom the Conqueror, your personal Herald my Lord, what is thy wish?", he stated with a dark booming voice. Remembering his protocols Harry squared his shoulders as he looked at Crom. "Armour me my Herald", he said. Crom immediately bowed his head before sheathing his weapons. Slowly he removed each and every piece of Harry's old armour, before he grasped the ancient suit of Chaos Armour that was lying on the altar.

First on was the greaves, followed by the boots, then came the cuirass itself, before the shoulder guards and gauntlets came. The entire armour was a shiny glossy black, smooth as water, and it's many raised and decorated sharp edges, were red as blood. After the armour that had been too big first shrunk itself to fit Harry's smaller structure, Crom fastened a deep lilac cloak with a thick brown fur at the top around his shoulders with a silver chain, before he went down on a bended knee with his head bowed he raised his two hands that held his helmet. The helmet made of a shining dark gold with two big horns sticking out and then bending up from each side of it. Almost reverently Harry took the helmet before placing it on his head, almost instantaneously the one dark eyeholes as well as the small opening at the bottom where his mouth was lit up with an eerie red light.

"The Everchosen is dead all hail the Everchosen", yelled Crom, and his words was repeated from the seventeen other warriors in the room. "You are the new Everchosen now my Lord, I am sure of it", said Crom. "What is thy command?"

"Rise my brothers", said Harry as he looked on his new servants. "I am at the moment not yet ready to take up on the mantle as Everchosen. I have business at a small village not too far from here, and there is much to be done before we can let the world feel our fury once more, I am almost positive that the sword is in the general vicinity, but the other artefacts are spread around the world, we must retrieve them before we can unleash the Storm of Chaos again, Crom, I bid thee to come with me on my travels. The rest of you my faithful brothers must scatter, find out the location of the other four artefacts, and gather my army, tell those who live at the Wastes that a new Everchosen has arisen and to prepare for war", Harry did not know exactly why he said this, but he knew that the words came to him from Tzeentch, so it was apparently his master's will for this to happen.

One by one his followers left until only Crom was left. "My Lord, though your duels were no doubt impressive, we need to train you more in the arts of combat, Archaon was the only person to ever have bested me in combat, and we will not leave nor stop your training before you can best me", he said.

And so began Harry's training. Crom was ruthless, his different fighting styles were effective no matter what, either he attacked with his sword and axe, unleashing a whirlwind of blows upon Harry, that would have shredded him to ribbons if they were using real weapons. And whenever Harry managed to go on the offensive he simply switched to using his word and shield, with an expertise, blocking or redirecting every blow only to retaliate with lightning quick strikes that would have killed Harry several times over were he a normal man.

So now almost a year later Harry stood outside with Crom, his mighty shield decorated with a twisted Chaos star in gold with a central spike was strapped on his left hand, and he was just about to draw his sword when Crom attacked him.

At first the Harry gave ground before the former tribal king of the Kul tribes, beating aside the ferocious attacks with his shield, seemingly unable to draw his own weapon in the face of such skill and ferocity. Crom pressed on, believing that he had Harry measured again, but as Harry reached the door to the cave, he gave ground no further and with a single sweep of his shield swept the blade from Crom's hand. Without pause, Crom flung himself weaponless at his foe but as fast as he was, Harry was faster, his right hand closing in a vice-like grip about Crom's throat. As he lifted the struggling Kul high off the ground, Archaon abandoned his shield and drew his sword, the blade easing from the scabbard, and he threw Crom to the ground before pointing the blade at Crom's throat.

Crom was stupefied as he remembered with a feeling of melancholy at how similar this duel was to the one he had with Archaon several decades ago. The only difference was that there was no ring of knights surrounding them, nor did Harry draw the Slayer of Kings, which had made Crom surrender immediately.

Sheathing his sword Harry helped Crom up from the ground, seemingly without effort, "so did I pass your test my friend?" he asked and Crom could even hear the smirk that was probably stretching across his liege's face.

"You my Lord are as worthy a warrior as Archaon himself was, there is nothing else I can teach you, so I suggest you head back home my Lord, meanwhile I wish to return to the steppes of Kul, where I will once again unite the tribes into an army worthy of fighting for you", he said.

"As you wish my friend, raise me an army worthy of fighting in my name, but stay in the north until you hear from me, you will probably know", Harry said as he grasped Crom's shoulder and shook it in a brotherly gesture., before retreating towards his horse. Crom meanwhile appraised his Lord and former student, incredibly proud of himself. Where Arkhan had once been just 6' tall, he now stood a great 7,2, and while not as tall as Crom, he was definitely broader around the shoulders, and if he was to take a guess, much stronger as well, and he could only hope that he did not fail as Archaon had done, with a last glance at his friend, Lord and former student, Crom picked up his sword before marching towards his old homeland.

Harry meanwhile was riding as fast as his trusted horse, whom he had named Braccus, towards his home. He could not wait to see Serina again, but a great shadow rested on his mind, and he had a feeling that if he did not hurry something terrible would happen. And on his sixth day of travel he could finally see the village of Istind on the steppes a little way below him, and it was surrounded by an army of knights and men-at-arms, Brettonnians who had come for vengeance for the raid they had done over a year ago.

From his elevated position Harry could see that his allies were surrounded, a small island of Chaos Warriors, including Leif whom it appeared had received an elevation to their ranks, all around them were both Knights and men-at-arms, while further back their archers were pouring volleys of flaming arrows into the city.

Harry simply grinned at this, spurring Braccus into a gallop he flew towards the Brettonni battle line. Before too long he was in range and he sent forth two great fireballs that slammed into the archers, the great red fire tearing at their very souls, before it died out. Not even giving them time to properly notice them he drew his sword and rode into them. His sword swung and stabbed, splashing his armour with blood and gore, and Braccus appeared to take great pleasure in riding over the peasants before trampling on them or kicking those who came to close. Three brave peasants gathered up in front of him with their swords held in shaking hands, and so Harry stopped his wild charge, gazing down into their terrified faces from atop his mighty black horse. Extending his sword so that it pointed towards one of them Harry spoke, his voice dark and filled with promise of pain and death. "You, you shall live if only to tell your people to never enter the lands of the north again, because if they do so, we shall slay them all", the peasant whimpered before he turned tail and ran towards where their ships lay anchored.

The others however threw themselves at Harry. Harry simply grinned underneath his helmet as he allowed his dark voice to laugh sinisterly at their pitiful attempts to kill him. One peasant was killed when Harry kicked him in the face, tearing his head straight off, another one got his ribs and sternum smashed as Harry slammed his shield into his torso, and a mighty sweep of his sword removed the heads of three others, the effortless killing he presented broke what little nerve the archers had left and they turned tail and ran, but Harry chased them down, one by one he killed the remaining twelve, before returning to where the Chaos Warriors were making their resistance.

Standing alone at the hill, with the gored bodies of several archers around him Harry made Braccus rise up on his hind legs. Raising his sword above his head he yelled out for all to hear. "I ARKHAN BRINGER OF CHANGE IS HERE, ALL PRAISE THE GODS OF CHAOS", then spurred Braccus into a gallop once more, riding quickly towards the Brettonnian knights and men-at-arms.

With a terrifying roar he smashed into the knights, killing as he went, and his actions and bravery sent the other Chaos Warriors into a frenzy. Shouting praises to Chaos and Arkhan they pushed forward, dragging the knights from their saddles, or smashing the weak peasantry apart, until not a living Brettonni was left alive.

"Arkhan, you are alive then?" said Varduk as he approached him. "Indeed I am Varduk, I have spent many a day searching for this armour, and training my skills, but now as I found it and felt ready I returned to my home".

"Excellent Arkhan, tomorrow you shall duel Rahkart here, do this and I shall make you my champion", he said. Harry simply nodded, both at Varduk and Rahkart, before he returned to his home, where Serina would be waiting for him.

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**AN:** Okay so that's it, I have had a few problems when it comes to writing this story. The main problem is the huge amount of ideas I have for it, and how to out them into the story, the second is the forever damned RL that loves to make me her bitch, and the third is that this story is sadly not at the very top of my priority list (but don't worry I will not abandon it)

Hopefully the next update will be a bit sooner, seeing as I have once again started to assemble a Chaos army to defeat my opponents with in warhammer. Other than that, I'd like to thank all of you who have reviewed and followed the story even though updates have been far and in between, but now I'm off to celebrate my birthday (it's today).


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